Lonely, Lonely
by BluePard
Summary: Permanently unfinished, sorry. The nature of reality has never been a concrete thing, but much less so in Spooner, land of magic, where an elderly Carrot Glace can die only to wake up again a young man. Rating is for violence.
1. i can't just simply collect my memories

Disclaimer: Not mine. Even I'm not that over the top.  
Notes: Themed after GTO's Hitori no Yoru -- Lonely Night, performed by Porno Graffiti. This is not really meant to be broken up into parts, but I have so that I can post it as I write it, but more importantly, for clarity between the realities (as you'll soon see.)

  
"Stand where you are, Carrot Glace!"   
The figure stopped and leaned against a tree, bent silhouette straightening a moment. It was always trouble when they knew his real name--he hadn't used it for decades. He was under the impression Carrot Glace was dead.  
"You might as well face facts--"  
His hand dropped to his side and grew until it swept the ground. Occasionally, droplets of blood made soft little impressions in the dirt as he sidled himself towards the loudmouth.  
"This is the age of sorcery, people like you are extinct and rightly so!"  
They knew better than to use magic on him, but rarely knew better than to gloat. He swept by the sorcerer, leaving a gash to his throat that dropped him like a marionette cut of its strings. A wave of needles fell upon the area.  
Now, the second one--or was he third, fourth, thousandth?--the last one most likely, given the mess he'd made of his leg. The last one was giving him trouble. The wave of needles was damn dense and impossible to dodge--the injuries to his shoulders told him that--but also silent and quick, something he couldn't outrun.  
Well, he couldn't run now, anyway.  
If he could just find the bastard. It wasn't a big difference, a single sorcerer--but he had done his best, as the last sorcerer hunter, to be the most _effective_ sorcerer hunter, and that meant down to the last drop of blood.  
But it was hard to hear anything over the sluggish pounding in his ears, the rasping of his throat. The darkness gave him cover, but his vision was nearly nonexistent in all this--  
_I'm happy with it._  
He smiled a little, surprised at himself.  
_Thing is, I want him to die too._  
After all, sorcerer hunters died in battle, on missions, didn't they? Not that he'd had a mission in years, even a self-assigned one. He was the target, a final relic of warlike days.  
He fell forward on one knee, jolting from his concentrated consciousness. He was losing blood faster than he thought--he'd made a noise--some abstract demon's sense felt the sharp-edged cloud hovering over him even as time slowed--  
Well, he always had his final option. And he did have a little magic left.  
His bones creaked and cracked as all of it surged through his veins, and the beast was there, and the blood of the former Carrot Glace and the former sorcerers were both underfoot.  
Then it was just the former Carrot Glace again, smiling at the dimming world, not even sighing as it tore away.   
  


  
Despite almost wanting it, he couldn't believe that ... that was it, killed, finally. It wasn't as if he had died young or easily. But, finally, there it was. He was dead.  
Only...  
This was perhaps even more hard to come to grips with than being dead. While he was dead, he was also standing--standing?--upright in some random room, staring at some sorcerer who looked vaguely familiar. With the odd memory of the elderly, he recalled him from long ago days. The sorcerer had hit him with magic, he transformed, end of sorcerer. An easy case. But that meant that guy was dead too.  
Oh no, he wouldn't have to fight them all _again_ would he? It was their own fault for being evil and stupid. Didn't the afterlife know that the evil, stupid ones shouldn't get a second chance?  
At this point, Carrot became aware that his legs were shaking violently. No wonder, with no staff for support or anything. He let them cave in on themselves, and the rest of his body followed, until he was just a ball of clothing topped with fingers running through scruffy hair.  
"Niisan....?"  
Wow, he'd really heard that. He must've imagined it, then. Something so soft being so distinct ... then again, when you're dead, do you need ears?  
"What's wrong with him?"  
Carrot found he could tell where they were just by the clunking of their footsteps. The sounds of battle--Marron was in front, blocking the sorcerer's attacks. Chocolat and Gateau weaved in and out, trying to attack without getting hurt. Tira was kneeling by him... he could see the edge of her skirt on the floor...her hand was on his shoulder.  
Then the easily recognizable sound of someone's head severing neatly from their body. It was a hard sound to forget.  
"Niisan, are you all right?"  
It was so _strange_. How could anyone possibly know all that without ever looking up? It was as if the information was wired straight into his brain--like a dream where you look at a written page, and the words just arrive in your head. There was no way...everything was too full...he needed to back away, but where to?  
"Darling, what's wrong?!" He could feel them clustered around, despite the air between. He didn't have senses like that!  
"That wasn't an attack spell." Carrot could picture Marron's expression so well, he could almost reach out and touch it. That, perhaps, would have made sense, if it hadn't been so long since he'd last seen his brother. "We'd better see Big Momma."  
"Darling!" Strong hands shook him, pulled his head up. It was horrible, how it all flooded in. Chocolat's expression was horrible, too.  
"Wh... what..." he found his voice, but that wasn't his voice, either. It sounded young and scared. "I'm alive?"  
"Of course you're alive, Darling," Chocolat forced a smile onto her face. "We wouldn't let anything happen to you."  
He looked around. Tira was hugging one of his arms, and Marron and Gateau were standing behind Chocolat, looking down at him with tense expressions. Each of them seemed to flinch into a harder expression when he looked at them.  
"But I...died..."  
"Twerp, you're alive, can't you see that?"  
Chocolat wiped at his face with her sleeve. After a moment, he realized it was coming away damp.  
"But... you're dead. All of you. And me..." Carrot's neck went limp, his eyes on the ceiling. "Do I have to do it all again?"   
  


  
They sat, tensely, each not pacing for the others' sakes. Every once in a while, one of them would realize they'd been tapping their toe on the floor or drumming their fingertips on the wood. They reined themselves in again, and concentrated on the sounds down the hall.  
Most of it was muffled talking, the sort you heard walking down the street and knew there'd been a domestic dispute. Female chords talked smoothly or sternly to the male voice, which occasionally rose loud enough to hear.  
"But I died!" They could just make it out. "That makes me dead!"  
The group twitched. That was enough--they pounded down the hallway and through the door, pushing one of the Haz Knights aside.  
Carrot was sitting with the soles of his feet together, on the bed. He was pouting, all his features drawn to the middle region of his face.  
"Twerp, you're alive, that makes you _alive_."  
"Am I really?" Carrot stared down at his hands. "These aren't my hands."  
There was a rap on the door, and Dotta flew in, placing a full length mirror directly before Carrot. He stared. When he moved to touch the mirror and the image moved too, he jumped and fell off the bed.  
There was a collective sigh.  
"Look, he's had a shock," said Mille Feuille, looking high-strung. Carrot had picked himself up and was poking at the mirror, staring at himself. "He needs time to adjust."  
"That's supposed to be me? I haven't looked like that since I was a little kid!" Carrot ran his hands through his hair. "An' I kind of remember being handsomer."  
"Wishful thinking," said Gateau shortly.  
"You are a little kid, Carrot dear." Mille closed his eyes and shook his head.  
"Look, my skin snaps back!"  
They stared.  
"He thinks he's an old man." said Mille Feuille, sighing. Carrot was oblivious to their gaze--he was craning his neck in odd ways, trying to see if he really looked like that boy in the mirror. Once he gave up on this, he bounded up, overshot the area next to the bed and plastered himself to a wall.  
"Is .... is he going to be all right?" Tira stared at him with horrified amazement.  
"Convincing him he's young won't take too long," said Mille. "He can feel that he's young."  
Carrot finally pulled himself off the wall, collapsing and clutching at his nose. "How dib I doob dat?"  
"You're young, you have a lot of energy, therefore you only have to put forth a minimum of effort." Mille's voice was flat, as if he'd recited this several times already.  
Carrot got up carefully and managed not to fall over backwards.  
"The real problem," Mille turned back to the others, "is that he believes he's an old man because he's lived his whole life already."  
"But I did!" Carrot walked awkwardly over to them. "I was there!"  
"Niisan, that was a delusion, a spell." Marron's brow creased.  
"How do I know this is really real, then?" Carrot felt at the wall, as if to see if he'd fall through.  
Mille sighed, shook his head again and stood. "I give up! This is harder than making him realize he's bi!"  
The door slammed behind him. Carrot blinked at it.  
"But I am bi! That was _ages_ ago!"  
Chocolat's face loomed up before him. "You're. Not. Bi."  
Carrot squeaked and hid behind his blankie.  
Marron sat down on the edge of the bed. "Niisan, what else has changed?"  
"Um, well..." He peeked out. Chocolat was giving him the "Don't you DARE" look that she usually reserved for when pretty girls were about. Tira had her hands to her face, which was starting to match her cloak.  
"Uh, I can control my powers now..." He looked down at his arm, and, failing to see what he expected, brought it closer. "No, that's right, I don't have them any more..."  
"You never had them," corrected Gateau.  
"Had what, Niisan?"  
"The ... the gauntlet, arm cuff thingies." He looked annoyed at their confusion. "Well, how would you know? You're dead!"  
"We're not dead." said Gateau.  
"Pfft. You are. I felt it." He groused at their disbelieving expressions. "Look, when Chocolat died, I looked up at Marron, and he just nodded. We knew, okay?"  
"She's not dead, dammit! Are you blind?"  
Carrot turned to Chocolat, and seemed to be studying her face. He turned the opposite way, and looked Marron over, but noted only a few features of Tira and Gateau before shaking his head.  
"I don't believe it. I don't believe any of it."  
He looked down.  
"I felt it."  
And from where she watched her crystal ball, Big Momma lowered her head sadly, as the image winked out. 


	2. street has something that urges romance

Again, I apologize, it's not meant for chapter form... but you'll certainly see the purpose of it by the third chapter. Thanks to Argent Inluminai (taketal001@hawaii.rr.com) for beta-ing this. 

  
"If I have a girl, I can name her Ginny, and Ren if it's a boy..."  
"That's nice, Dotta, but about our date..."  
"Or maybe Ginger or Rocky or Mac... what do you think, Carrot?"  
Carrot sighed and gave up. "They're lovely names, Dotta. You'll be a great mom."  
"Really?!" Dotta glowed with the idea, completely oblivious to Carrot's aura of disappointment.  
"Give it up, twerp, you're never going to compete with Seiryuse." Gateau smiled and closed his eyes. "After all, he's got grace and style and gorgeous looks..."  
Carrot stuck out his tongue. "Give it up, Gateau, you're never gonna compete with Dotta. After all, she's got a nice personality."  
Any argument that might have started was interrupted by an explosion, rocking the aged, immortal building to its roots.  
"What was that?!" Chocolat sprinted off ahead, the others close behind. More sorcerer hunters were appearing, dashing along the corridors.  
"The Stellar Church is under attack!" shouted someone.  
"The Stellar Church is under attack?" repeated Tira.  
"You can't attack the Stellar Church," said Marron, even as they surged forward into the fray.  
But someone had. Even in the smoke and confusion, the courtyard felt like a battlefield. Carrot caught the flash of oncoming magic and stepped forward into it, blocking the others--  
--and fell back in a shower of blood and flesh and bone, veiled by the remains of his limbs, thanking God he always rushed in with his arms in front of his head, lest that had been his face, someone screamed his name and he was on the ground somehow, not remembering the fall, unable to sense a thing until Tira's cool magic washed over him, retreated, and left him in the even colder darkness.  
  


  
That was one of those memories he could, must believe in. There are things that are forgotten, things that are barely remembered, half remembered, things that are solid, and then there are things you wish would back off a bit and let you get some sleep. That was one of those truly solid memories, one of those memories that defined existence, that was a marker of "You are Here," that told you, firmly, yes, you are alive, sorry about that.  
There were other memories on the side of that... rift, that ... break ... that were also solid, even before everything went to hell. There was that one time Chocolat had glomped him, and he tripped, and they fell in a very awkward way that he remembered well (Yes, very well...) or that really cute girl from Demuth, or that one babe who...  
"Carrot, you're drooling."  
Ah, the libido of youth. The energy, the passion, the single-minded simplicity of those days--but wait, what was that? This feeling... This familiar feeling...  
"I WANNA GO CHASE SOME GIRLS!!" shouted Carrot, then realized with some confusion that he was standing on his bed, whereas he'd been sitting on it just a moment before.  
"Well, that didn't take long," said Gateau, shaking his head.  
"What are you talking about? I haven't chased girls in ages!" To his own surprise, he easily blazed by the Misu sisters. Managing not to hit the opposite wall, he took off along it with increased lightheartedness. Honestly, everything felt lighter now--the weight on him that was not poundage but nonetheless real, it had all been lifted. He was not tired, the air and ground and gravity itself ceased to touch him. It was like suddenly having superpowers.  
Then a figure caught hold of the back of his shirt and reminded him, with a jolt, that old men were not always elderly.  
"Carrot dear, STAY PUT!"  
"But I wanna go chase giiirls..."  
"Which is nice to see," Mille ran his free hand through his bangs. "But I have direct orders from Big Momma not to let you run off and get yourself killed."  
"Bit late for that."  
Mille visibly stumbled for a moment on Carrot's unfamiliar attitude. Just like before, he was having trouble keeping up with Carrot's sudden personality changes.  
"Be good," he finally managed.  
"Ohhh, but that's no fun!" said Carrot, stepping into Mille's personal space. Mille blanked.  
"Are you sure you want me to be good?" said Carrot, leaning even further in. "Don't you like me better ... when I'm bad?"  
Mille's thoughts were almost written on his face. Carrot was saying this? Carrot would never say this. Flirt with him? Never. Not with a guy. Talk like that? Never. Never ever.  
By the time Mille had come to terms, Carrot had a damn good head start.  
_Wish I'd known he was that easy to distract when I was young. _ Although, this kind of counted. But all that couldn't have been a spell. There was powerful magic in the world, and he'd seen a lot of it, but that was his life! Who could have known about all that? Who could have created a whole world in his head? And he would _never_ come up with something like that himself.  
A whole life, there, in his memories. Granted, he didn't remember all of it--who did?--but it was as firm and real as anything he'd ever known.  
Carrot ducked down a corridor and waited until Mille passed by. He could again be loud, in this body, but it was also easy to be quiet. He wasn't even out of breath yet.  
What else could it be? A spell on him recently? But why cast such a thing on an old man--anyway, if someone killed him while he dreamt this, he wouldn't mind. There was no point in worrying about that. Perhaps it was just a dying delusion, brought on by loss of blood. Given the quickness of thought, his whole time here could be dreamt in a few seconds.  
Carrot leaned back, lightly pressing the edge of his fist against the cold wall. It felt real. All of it did, and it was hard to argue with the present moment. Even when you realize a dream is a dream, you soon forget. This...  
It was too real. It was trying to be real.  
But if he was wrong...  
_I'm not._  
Carrot stayed there, hunched, the cold seeping into his bones and his butt going numb.  
_All of that...had to be real. No one can tell me to forget it, no one can make me pretend it didn't happen._  
Anything that made his chest ache so badly had to be real.  
_And, since this isn't real..._  
Carrot stood.  
_I might as well get laid before I die!_  
And he took off, bounding along the walls so quickly their coldness couldn't touch him.   
  


  
So many girls, so little time. Granted, it didn't have to be a lot of girls--it would just be nice to get some again. Sort of reminiscent.  
Carrot had been practicing his voice on the way into town, and he finally had it back. Perhaps it was kind of better to use his young voice most of the time--considering what he went through to get his old voice--but the slightly deeper, smoother, suave voice was definitely the choice for picking up chicks.  
"Excuse--"  
"PERVERT! I told you already, keep away!!"  
Carrot landed on the ground with a ringing slap on his face.  
"H... hey, that's no way to treat an old man!" He found himself standing and pointing at her. He was never going to get used to his magical warp capabilities. Damn. People were staring.  
"Ah ha ha! Do bee do..." Carrot strolled along casually a moment, then warped into an alley. Dangit, it looked like his younger self had a reputation here. He had been such a doofus when young. Granted, it was a lot of fun, but he wasn't here to goof off.  
"And I kinda miss transforming at will..." He sighed. "Then I could disguise myself..."  
Stuuuupid death delusion. If he was going to live in a make believe world, couldn't it be--  
"CARROT!"  
"DARLIIIING!"  
Oh, dammit. Dammity damn damn.  
"Fine, brain, have it your way..." A soft and hopeless smile came to his lips. "I keep trying to tell you, I just want to get laid, but you and my heart and my other unimportant, non-sex-related organs are always ganging up on me..."  
Carrot bounded out of the alleyway, caught a Misu sister in each arm and twirled them around.  
"Come on! Let's have lunch! I know this great place down the street--"   
  


  
It had to be a trick. It just had to be.  
Carrot had run off to chase girls, as usual. The Misu sisters followed, as usual. By this point he should be a tear-lined bloody mess under the splintered fragments of a giant mallet. At   
_least._ "Come on, Tira! I'm telling you, it's good stuff. Right off the west coast, try some of mine--"  
Tira blushed deeply, but allowed Carrot to maneuver his fork into her mouth. She nodded her enjoyment.  
"Darling! What about me?"  
"You've eaten half my meal already!" Carrot laughed. "Let me have some, I haven't had this for ages."  
"You've never had this," said Tira. "Your idea of spice is putting salt on things."  
Carrot ignored this, digging in with apparent relish, while Chocolat tried to get him to feed her again.  
"N... niisan..."  
"Oh, hey Marron! Try some of this!"  
Carrot popped the food in Marron's mouth before he could object. Like Tira, he blinked in surprise for a moment, then nodded his enjoyment.  
"Gateau~!"  
"You're not feeding me anything. What the heck is wrong with you?"  
"Eh?" Carrot blinked, sucking on the end of his fork. "Ohhh, this tastes better with the metal tang. Never eat this with chopsticks, remember that."  
Gateau smacked himself in the head. He was going to call Carrot something unfortunate (which, true enough, he was) but wound up with a mouth full of ... something ... instead.  
"It helps if you chew," said Carrot, grinning at Gateau's expression.  
"Niisan, shouldn't you be resting?"  
"Are you kidding? I haven't felt so alive in ages!"  
Gateau finally swallowed, trying to ignore how good that had tasted. "If you say 'in ages' one more time..."  
"Besides, who knows when this delusion'll end? Really, I ought to be off getting laid, but, honestly, I missed you guys." Carrot smiled, apparently oblivious to their confusion. "It looks like I won't die happy until I see you guys one last time, so ... let's make the most of it!"  
He pushed his chair out and began to walk away, but, after a moment, turned and stopped. The others had not moved, not even to close their mouths. 


	3. the future is still the present

Most of this was beta'd by Argent Inluminai (taketal001@hawaii.rr.com) but then I got impulsive. Kids, do as I say, not as I do. *embarrassed cough* 

  
What woke him was Gateau's yell. The guy had big lungs, and though his voice was not as deep as Marron's, the intensity of that scream drilled straight through skin and bone, right into Carrot's hindbrain.  
His eyes jerked wide open, but there was barely anything to see. Static charges flickered, illuminating patches of the smoke and fog. The air was full of the smell of charred meat, the ground was full of the ash and blood of it. Carrot tried to get up and yelped as he lacerated his own wrists. He was bound, though healed, and now bleeding from his own force. He squirmed endlessly in the white and gray and screams and thumps, until finally he had kicked his boots free and the ropes with them. He couldn't see anyone, and the atmosphere told him that calling out would be a fatal move.  
It had taken him forever to wake up, to kick free, to stand. He spent much longer, sweat dampening his hair to his neck, just waiting to for the release of being told that yes, Hell was here for him. And Hell had just started.   
  


  
Tira's glasses were reflective and hard to see past, but her trembling lips gave it away.  
"H-hey!" Carrot held up his hands. "Please don't cry! What I meant is, sure I believe all that crap!"  
"Darling, you really think..." Chocolat's voice trailed off. She put her hand over her mouth and turned away.  
"Now, Chocolat..." What could he do? He'd let her fuss and cuddle, and he hadn't really thought much deeper about what Chocolat wanted. It was so long ago, remembering the subtleties became difficult.  
"Niisan... isn't there anything we can do?" Marron's eyebrows were knit in his soft but firm way. His voice was sad. "Can't we convince you?"  
"Um..." He'd gone and spoilt it. "Marron..."  
He tried desperately to come up with something tactful while the others were silent, except for Tira's occasional sniffle. Now, tact...in his mid-twenties, then he'd had tact. Late twenties, early thirties... but tact was a bit harder to have when you were old and just trying to make sure you didn't miss any "you are about to die" signals.  
"M... maybe in a few months..." was the best he could come up with, "'Cause... I don't think I'll be here that long... so if I am..."  
Marron nodded. "You'll have to accept it, in time. All right, niisan."  
In time? Didn't they understand, that's what he was fighting against? A lifetime telling him this didn't exist? A few months wouldn't stand against decades. It might eat at the edges at bit, but he'd never forget. He swore it. Everyone who died--they didn't deserve forgetting.  
That's why he was here in this dream, remembering them.  
"So just, humor me, all right?" He smiled a bit unsteadily. "Let's go... I dunno, fishing, like when we were kids."  
After a moment's thought, he added, "Gateau can come because someone should probably babysit him and make sure he doesn't walk through any walls."  
And then he ran, Gateau and the others chasing after him.   
  


  
Tira laughed. She shouldn't, but it was hard not to. Everything that made Carrot wonderful he was at in triplicate. At the cafe, he'd been acting gallant. He did that surprisingly often, but usually he seemed not to know when. Today, he'd complimented the girls excessively, laughed at himself, winked at her.   
She was never going to recover from that wink.  
Now he was, indeed, fishing the same way as they had when they were kids. As everything did with Carrot, it involved running around and making a lot of noise.  
"Quick, Tira, on your side, catch it!"  
Tira leapt forward, trying to pin the fish to her chest as it jumped wildly out of the water. It slipped through and she fell in, even wetter than before and wiping the spray off her glasses.  
"Ahhh, you were so close!" He pulled her up, glancing to the side. "Oooh, Marron! Marron Marron Marron!"  
Marron swept forward, stripped to the waist, and managed to net the fish in his robe.  
"You're ruining it," said Gateau, sulking a bit on the banks. Marron laughed a little.  
Carrot plowed over to Marron, Chocolat, his fellow fish-frightener, splashing behind him.  
"Ahhh, good job, Marron! I award you the prize of Coolest Guy of the Day!" Carrot made a complicated gesture that ended with patting the top of Marron's head. Marron gave another silent laugh.  
Chocolat made a noise of displeasure, "Coolest Guy? What about Coolest GIRL?"  
Carrot leaned back into his hips, arms crossed. "Ha! Marron can be Coolest Girl too!"  
Marron shook his head, still smiling.  
He was seeing it too, ne... they were acting just as they had when they were kids. Carrot and Chocolat were arguing, sticking their tongues out at each other--apparently unaware of anything revealed by their clinging clothing, anything besides the fight. It was no wonder Gateau was acting confused and left out--he'd never seen them this way.  
It made Tira feel wistful, warm and cold at the same time. These were days they would never see again, days before they'd ever known death or love.  
_If I were to wake up again tomorrow, at that age..._ Images of short curls and barrettes, and always sniffling... _Would I believe none of this had happened? Could I believe?_  
"Carrot..." She sighed.  
"It's all right, Tira."  
She looked up at Marron, unaware that he'd walked to her.  
"What matters is the present, even if we are re-creating our memories." He smiled, brushing back his unkempt, sodden hair. "Our brother when we were young is not our brother of yesterday. And of today ... even if niisan changes, he's always himself and always ours. Help me clean this?"   
  


  
"There you all are!"  
Mille stared at them in disbelief, hands on his hips and feeling irately like someone's mom. He hadn't even been allowed to have the sex first.  
"What on earth have you been doing?"  
"We've been saving the people of the world..." Carrot brought up the package in his arms, "From fish."  
Mille looked down at the fish, then back up at Carrot's grinning face, then down at the fish again.  
"And you think you feel like an old man..." Mille shook his head. Incomprehensible.  
"Don't be such a stick in the mud geezer! Let's cook this baby up!" Carrot marched into the building. "We must have enough firewood, with Gateau around..."  
"He's gotten even more annoying," said Gateau.  
"Yes, but he looks so _good_ all wet like that." Mille sighed girlishly.  
"Darling! Let me help you get out of those wet clothes!"  
"Oneesama!"  
"Seems we're back in the present day," said Marron. His smile had faded.  
"What do you think, Marron?" Mille's voice was softer. "Any luck?"  
Marron shook his head. "All we can do is wait."  
When they at last caught up to their louder companions, they found Chocolat doing the cooking and Carrot setting a table. After a moment of indecision, Tira collected spare wet clothing, blushing furiously. She wrapped it all up in Marron's robe and bustled off to set them to soak and to change.  
When they finally sat down to dinner, they found themselves oddly silent. Each seemed wrapped in their own memories or thoughts, or leaving something unsaid. Mille's ears began to ring from it--quiet was unheard of, around this bunch.  
"Ne, Darling..." Chocolat's voice was soft, and she did not look up from her plate, where she picked at the remnants of the meal. "In that fake life... were you and I together?"  
Carrot shook his head. "Nope."  
Mille lowered his lashes, peeking from over his palms. "You and I?"   
"Don't encourage him," said Gateau, piling another portion on his plate.  
"Nope."  
"Mou, Darling..."  
"Who did you wind up with then?"  
"No one," The others waited while Carrot took a bite, chewed at length, swallowed. "I didn't wind up with anyone. There wasn't anyone left."  
"What do you mean?" Gateau, despite himself, looked curious.  
"Everyone was killed off," Carrot waved his fork around, "a long time ago."  
There was a long pause, marked by the clangs of Carrot's utensils.  
"You said that I died..."  
"Mn! You were one of the first, Chocolat. You didn't know when to quit."  
"...And the rest of us, Niisan?"  
Carrot closed his eyes and slowly raised his fork into the air. He gestured to Mille Feuilles, then picked out the others with his fork, one by one. "Mille... then Chocolat, then Marron, then Gateau, then Tira. Then me, of course."  
"....how?"  
"That's a joke," Gateau shook his head. "Who could kill us all that easily?"  
Carrot shrugged and dug into dessert, as if the matter held no importance for him. Mille withheld his annoyance--this new Carrot was far too self-assured. It took away from his cuteness. He didn't _blush._  
"Who cares about stuff like that?" said Carrot. "I know what happened and you don't believe it happened at all. Ne ne, do we have any ice cream?"  
"It'd help if we knew something about your delusion, Niisan."  
"Oh, my _delusion_. Well, if I had that lil magic ball thingie..." He stopped and sucked at his food for a moment. "Never mind. You don't want to see that."  
"See what?"  
"Never mind. You're better off not knowing what happened."  
"If you say 'never mind' one more time," muttered Gateau.  
"What? I haven't said 'never mind' in ages!" Carrot easily ducked under Gateau's great swiping paw. He was grinning.  
"You're just changing the subject," said Gateau, leaning back into his chair.  
Carrot knit his eyebrows. "Now, I don't remember Gateau having a brain... so that must've been a lucky guess."  
Marron sighed. "Niisan, please. We're trying to help."  
Carrot shook his head, and surprised them all by suddenly putting his palm to Mille's chest.  
"If I'm alive, then why is this still here?"  
The silence fell again. Mille found not only his ears ringing, but his blood cold, a reaction he never would have imagined could come from Carrot's soft touch. Carrot took his hand back.  
"Forget about it. Let me out of this place." Carrot frowned at the stone walls. "I'll even take missions, whatever."  
Mille bowed his head. "If that's what you want, I'll tell Big Momma directly."  
"And just one thing..." Carrot grimaced. "We don't have anyone here called Ritz, do we?"   
  


  
"How on earth did he know about that?" Mille paced up and down in front of Big Momma. "Is this a different spell than we thought? Don't tell me there's actually some truth to all that! He thinks we're all dead!"  
"That is one possible future," Big Momma lowered her eyes in thought.  
"All of us? Me first, he said!" Mille crossed his arms. "Not that I ever trusted that Ritz fellow. You can't trust someone who's so friendly. _Too_ friendly. Am I right?"  
The other Haz Knights nodded solemnly. They were good at it, even when the situation perhaps called for laughing and pointing.  
"It is possible that he overheard the name at some point. It is also possible that his words may have some grain of truth." Big Momma knit her brow. "Certainly, we have nothing to base an accusation on. But please, keep an eye on them..."  
Mille nodded sternly.  
"Oh... and do abstain from seducing Carrot until he has his sanity back?"  
"_...Big Momma--!_"  
"I'm sure you realize that it isn't sporting."  
"Yes, I suppose... er, as always, I am at your command." _Even if it stinks._  
Mille bowed low and turned, Haz armor swishing into place. Ritz--if he did betray them, was it possible--?  
Mille put his hand over his heart, as Carrot had. It beat back comfortingly at him, but, perhaps, just a little fast. 


	4. easy love, easy come, easy go

  
The Sorcerer Hunters sucked in their breath, tightly through their teeth, as Big Momma was hoisted to the stake. Many of them froze, as if sure nothing could touch her, sure this was the moment of truth. Many of them tore at their bonds with increased madness.  
But certainly, all of them saw the knife go in. That was the point of a public execution, after all.  
The executioner removed his arm, red up to the elbow and bearing a still-beating heart. He cast it into the fire, which swelled up to welcome and receive it. Big Momma's form curled around the void, her skirt dyed deadly crimson.  
Everyone was frozen. Still and silent as Big Momma's body was unleashed and cast aside... as Mille Feuilles took the stage, his affluent robes hanging heavy with blood, his hair matted black against his skull. He spat out something they all could hear, but none could understand, minds gaping. His ribs were ripped and parted, his heart joined Big Momma's and the rest of the Haz Knights followed, one after another, each looking half dead already, and more than dead, corpses and out the other side, once their ribs were crushed apart and blood drained down their fronts.  
They were all done. The Sorcerer Hunters--many of whom had never met each other--crouched low, waiting.  
A few more scrapes, and the last was brought up and lashed.  
Carrot broke the spell by rolling out of his cart and getting his feet under himself somehow, screaming with fury, protesting that his father wasn't a Haz Knight anymore, that he didn't count. His bound arms were grabbed, and he kicked up and into the others, jerking wildly, pulling the larger men down like a frenzied child with a grip on his elder's knees. With blind rage he pushed through from where he had been tossed and forgotten towards his father's small, weary smile...  
The executioner whispered something to Onion, and the smile left...  
The dagger entered...  
And Carrot stopped there, and stayed there, and stared, eyes wide, until the blows came down on his head. Somewhere Marron was protesting, and there was a _smack_ as the mage was toppled with one heavy upward slap. Carrot landed beside him on the cart, burying his bruised face, ignoring the guard's irate instructions not to damage the merchandise.  
The number of times he had replayed this with the sorcerer's magic--not that many times, true, for it was enough to see it once--he never did find out what the executioner said to take away his father's dying smile.  
Perhaps it was just...  
_Those two ... won't be allowed to die..._   
  


  
"Is there anything you guys want?"  
The gang blinked at Carrot. Their normal gait was off, and it was a long way to their assigned mission.  
"You know, anything."  
Chocolat tightened her arms around him. "I can think of something... mmm, Daaarring..."  
Carrot nodded. "Got it. Granted."  
"C-Carrot?!!"  
"And you, Tira? What would you like?" Carrot smiled, addressing Tira apparently without noticing her blushing pre-mallet state.  
"I-- I?"  
"Anything you want?"  
Tira stopped in her tracks. Chocolat's lustful smile had faded, and she was confronting Tira with a look that was half deadly in its seriousness.  
"I ... I want you to not sleep with Chocolat."  
"T-- Tira!"  
"Um... that's getting kinda complicated..." Carrot scratched his head while the sisters hmphff!ed at each other. "Gateau? You got anything?"  
Gateau blinked in surprise. He crossed his arms and thought on the matter a moment, brows entwined.  
"I want to watch."  
"That's two for 'sleep with Chocolat.'" Carrot announced.  
"I don't mind if it's Tira," Gateau supplied helpfully.  
"Hrmmm..."  
"Or both."  
"G... Gateau..."  
"Excuse us a moment, Darling..."  
"Erk?"  
"And how about you, Marron?" Carrot's grin widened as the sisters dragged Gateau off for a little "talk."  
"I'm wondering if you did that to him on purpose."  
"Phase one! Come on, Marron, something you want? --Besides my believing this is real, such and such."  
"There isn't anything I want, Niisan."  
"Nothing?"  
"I just want you, and I have you. I'm a very happy person."  
"Yeah, but hard to shop for." Carrot leaned back and watched the Misu's disciplinary art at a distance for once. "Come on, Marron, I'm trying to buy your love here."  
"You already have my love, Niisan."  
"Yeah yeah. Okay, so I'm trying to invest in it. Obtain a bit of the surrounding area, you know, I'm thinking of some signs with 'Marron's love, property of Carrot Glace, trespassers will be persecuted--'"  
"'--especially if they're named Gateau Mocha?'"  
"Be serious, Marron. I don't need a reason to persecute him. He is a reason." Carrot tilted his head to the side. "I'm talking _anything_ here, Marron. No one I can hook you up with? Prostitutes I can buy? Marriages to arrange?"  
"As I said, all I want from you is you, Niisan."  
"That's great, but I doubt we'll get Pop's blessing. He's never liked me."  
Marron, of course, ignored the joke. "Father loves you, Niisan."  
"Yeah, yeah..." Carrot glanced back at the others again. The sisters were trying to prod Gateau into consciousness, so they wouldn't have to carry him.  
"...Nothing?"  
Marron thought on it a moment.  
"I would like a hug."  
Carrot blinked, shook his head, chuckled, then wrapped his arms around Marron's shoulders and gave him a couple light slaps on the back.  
"Sometimes you're just too damn cute, little bro."  
Marron smiled.  
"How about you, Niisan? What is it you want?"  
"Eh? Nothing..." Carrot halted, frozen as if a spell had been cast on him.  
His thought had been, _except, maybe, for _that_ not to have happened._  
But that wasn't it. Couldn't be it. This world... full of frowns that meant smiles and smacks for caresses... this world full of complications wasn't something you wished for. Something simple, something non-stressful--that was what people had always wanted. That was what he'd longed for, spending every night under the stars, on the edge. A perfect world... as a farmer or something else boring and steady... with all he wanted, everyone he loved, but without any hassle, any problems.  
He couldn't imagine it.   
  


  
Gateau rubbed his sore muscles. The Misus had done what many sorcerers failed to do. He suddenly felt thankful that he was bi, in case his love of women had been whipped right out of him.  
"If I didn't know that you're a complete moron, I'd think you did that on purpose," he groused.  
"Me? I'm a veritable puddle of innocence."  
Gateau's head hunched into his shoulders, an expression of unease on his face. "Since when do you know the word 'veritable?'"  
"Since I got this verit calling me a puddle of innocence," Carrot picked up a random piece of paper and waved it at Gateau. "It also calls you a few things, but since I'm a puddle of innocence, I can't say them."  
Gateau wagged his head back and forth, looking for a means of escape. At some point Carrot's mood had turned foul, apparent from the even stranger turns in his personality. The others had actually _ditched_ them in an inn room, unable to deal with him. Gateau was starting to wonder if he were possessed--by anything besides the usual, of course.  
Aw, dammit, Carrot was frowning again.  
"You're not even laughing at my jokes,"  
"Well, they're not_ funny._"  
"All right, how about this..." Carrot thought for a moment, "A guy says to his friend, 'hey, I've got this bird named Chet, he sings midwinter songs. All you have to do is light a fire under him.'"  
"So his friend lights a match and puts it under Chet's right wing, and he sings 'Silent Night.' Then he puts a match under Chet's left wing, and he sings 'Jingle Bells.' Then he puts the match between his legs, and he sings 'Chet's Nuts Roasting on an Open Fire.'"  
Carrot waited.   
Gateau coughed. "I heard that joke when I was about five."  
"...you have no humor in your soul."  
"Could we talk about something else?"  
Carrot rolled over and hung his head over the side of the bed. "All right, how about what you want? Something that won't get Tira and Chocolat in a cat fight?"  
"...actually, that cat fight idea sounds pretty good."  
"You're sick."  
"Hey, it's your fault for asking. Why should you care anyway?"  
"Hm, dunno," Carrot pulled himself up into a sitting position. "I guess I feel bad that I couldn't do anything for you guys...I thought I was over all that shit, but you just had to bring it up again."  
"Hmphff. Well, I suppose that's some sort of progress."  
Carrot raised an eyebrow at him.  
"If you're just dreaming this, it doesn't matter what you do," Gateau shrugged, "At least now, you're treating us as real."  
Carrot furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at his hands in his lap.  
"Don't you want all that bad shit not to have happened?"  
"But it did happen!"  
"You're defending something horrible."  
"I'm... I'm holding something sacred. Just back off, Gateau."  
"Fine, your choice. Be delusional all you want."  
Carrot flopped onto his back and refused comment. Well, that was good. Sort of. It would have been good, if he weren't casting a deep blue aura of Angst.  
He could hold out though. Anything was better than more jokes. Anything... any... nrghg.  
"So, you're bi now, huh?" said Gateau, mentally smacking himself.  
"...they didn't hurt you enough already?"  
"I wasn't coming on to you. I have taste, remember."  
"After everything else, something like that didn't really matter...but I didn't really get in any relationships, anyway, so who cares..."  
"Chocolat does."  
There was a pause. "...I can be straight again."  
Gateau shook his head. At least some things never changed.  
"Since you're already in a bad mood..." Gateau looked away. "I got to admit, I'm curious. How exactly did we ... how did we seem to die?"  
"Well, Mille seemed to have his heart cut out..." There it was again, that damn sarcasm. "Chocolat seemed to be pretty much charcoal, and Marron..."  
Gateau waited for a moment, wishing he could see Carrot's expression from here. Gateau prompted him, repeating the name. Carrot just pulled his blanket around himself. Right then, there was something about the way Carrot moved, about the feeling of the room, about that moment, that made him really seem to be the old man he claimed to be. Time hovered over him with its hand on his head, not gently, but pressing down with a hard and suffocating pressure. Gateau shivered, muscles tensing as in fight or flight.  
"...I killed him."


	5. tossing your loneliness on the streets

Carrot clenched his fists, noting with odd satisfaction the way his tensed tendons shook his entire arm. These were the worst. Anything, he could take. He was a Sorcerer Hunter. But this was worse. This brought to mind yellow flower fields and distant childish laughter, although it was altogether different.  
Carrot clenched his fists and noted with supreme satisfaction the pulsing energy coiled within them. How the sorcerers never noticed, he could not guess. Soon, perhaps they would notice--but also soon, he should have enough. The tricky part was the timing.  
No, the tricky part was the risk.  
The bands soldered around his wrists and ankles, the collar that cut slightly into his neck when he swallowed--he wondered why they had not been there for him when he was free. But, of course, he often forgot what the sorcerer's true grip on the world was: everywhere and absolute.  
Under the bands, somewhere, his skin was turning white and flaking off, he knew. He wondered how far it would go, if the metal would finally rot through his limbs. It's not as if he needed them for this, or even his head--  
He shook the idea away quickly. He didn't need the image it gave him. His problem--his problem was whether the bands, which separated his Aranju from his Zoanthropy, might also give him some control when transformed. He had no reason to believe this, but had to hope. Otherwise, he would have to transform into something minor, and likely be killed--or transform into something major, and kill who knew how many.  
That, he had to admit, was the real reason he was still enduring this. There was no right choice.  
Mind still playing over doubts and fears, he failed to notice his partner victim until the door had locked firmly behind him. He could not see a face--and really, he had no reason to assume. The lighting cast a glow to the bound man's form, not that there were imperfections to hide. Carrot felt another vague and unpleasant prod of intuition, that this skin had been broken and healed many more times than when a Sorcerer Hunter's. The man's black hair, for all apparent purposes radiant and healthy, flowed across his shoulders as if artfully arranged there.  
It was with the light step of an intruder on a freshly dug grave that Carrot made his way to the man's face.  
He had to admit, suddenly, that he had always counted so much on the others. His options weren't any good. They never were. If he had gambled his life on success in the past, he would have wasted it. He found the answer in simple procrastination. Just wait, and don't take too many risks.  
Marron should have been the one to come up with something. As it was, comprehension dawned very slowly in his quick mind. The dull eyes that were staring past Carrot, through the wall, through eternity just a moment before, were suddenly sharpened, irises contracting in painful consciousness.  
Carrot bowed, touched their foreheads, bangs mingling.  
"Little brother..." Far off, someone was yelling to get on with it. Carrot's arms disrupted the careful arrangement of Marron's hair, hugged around his neck.  
"I'm...  
...so...  
sorry..."

Gateau's voice rasped into nothingness. "You what?"  
"I killed him. Didn't mean to, of course. He was still... very... dead, though."  
"What happened?"  
I shouldn't be encouraging this. I shouldn't be letting him mourn a fantasy.  
"I just... lost it. I'd been gathering up magic with the..." He raised a wrist, "the armband thingies... they only gave me a little at a time, but I pretended the transformations took just a bit more magic than they did... saved it up... one day, I just snapped."  
"Snapped how?"  
Carrot squirmed into the bed, as if getting ready to sleep. "Transformed all the way, into one of the big beasts... destroyed the whole place, all the sorcerers, all the hostages, all the ... everything. And Marron was there too, so..."  
"He could've just transformed you back! Your dream doesn't make sense!"  
"Naw..." He sighed, as though giving up, "He was right there, he was probably the first to die."  
Gateau took a deep breath to steady his voice. "Carrot, that didn't happen."  
Carrot just kept the silence and did not bother contradicting him.

There was a small pause as they walked away, and a much longer pause before Tira broke it, eyes flitting between Chocolat's heavenward gaze and Marron's downcast one.  
"--w what do we do?! Marron, he thinks he killed you!"  
Marron raised his half-closed hand to his lips, "I must admit, this is far worse than I had anticipated. If Niisan feels guilty, rather than merely pained, he will feel he has no right to let go of his memories."  
"B- but he has no reason to feel guilty at all!" She turned back again to Chocolat for support, but received only a wistful smile in return.  
"Darling can be very stubborn about things like this." She finally took her eyes off the ceiling, focusing them on Tira's. "Even if he acts like it doesn't bother him, he might still feel it for years."  
Tira slumped, head down and gaze retreating. When she spoke, it was in a soft and almost pleading tone. "Isn't there some way to prove it? We know what reality is ... don't we?"  
"An interesting conundrum," Marron let his arms fall and began to walk away. "The truth is, we do not." He paused mid-step. "Then again, the intangibility of the truth is our problem. But Niisan will surely not let us remove his memories. He is too attached."  
"Then what do we do?!"  
The note of Chocolat's voice rung in the hallway a moment before Carrot opened the door. "Eh? You guys back already?"  
"...we couldn't leave you for too long, darling!"  
"Yes, we... um... worry..."  
Marron merely nodded. "I am not quite done yet," he said, and continued his slow steps away.

The Sorcerer they had been sent to confront was nothing major. It was the first time a mission had gone this smoothly since they were young. It was a sign of their power that every mission they were given was a challenging one. It was a sign of their frailty and dissonance, now, that they were being coddled with minor villains. Somewhere, Spooner was in dire trouble, and they were too inept to be sent.  
Gateau seethed slightly at the thought, but he doubted Chocolat would leave Carrot alone in this state. Big Momma herself couldn't seperate them until she was satisfied. She was hanging off his arm and arranging his hair out of his face even now.  
"You were so dashing, darling!"  
Carrot shrugged. He hadn't even transformed; no one felt inclined to let him walk into any more spells, at the moment. But he had been much more on the ball than usual, a fact that somehow only made Gateau more uncomfortable. An adept Carrot was an anomaly. Carrot was supposed to suck, that was the way of nature. Next, they'd be attacked by vicious rabbits. Or Chocolat would get some glasses and figure out she should be hitting on Marron.  
From her cooing, at least that sign of the Apocalypse was relatively distant. Not to mention, even this Carrot couldn't tell a joke properly. Some things never change.

When Mille returned to Big Momma to report, he found her examining a globe with great intensity. He stood there for some time, watching her bent back and trying to decide how to phrase things in his mind. The latest information had convinced him that this was not an idle matter, that this spell could have done irreperable damage to Carrot's spirit. Though he kept his stance, he felt the urge to sway on his toes like a child waiting for the rest room. Carrot had been cut in a way that took away his innocent blushing and niave good nature. Cut in a way that took a large chunk of his self.  
Mille found his face had creased into a hard scowl, his mind turned to thoughts of murder. He diliberately smoothed it and took a deep a deep breath. Careful to keep his steps silent, he approached Big Momma's side.  
The images in the globe rushed like rapids towards a fall. Mille did not understand how Big Momma recognized anything in the blur of color, but yet could not disturb her. He stared at the orb until it filled his vision, and perhaps he thought he might just see--  
"Mille Feuilles."  
He jumped. "Big Momma?"  
"Bring them back. Bring them here."  
He stammered, "My report--"  
Big Momma's fierce demeanor dimmed to a slow burn. "Yes. Tell me about it. But once they are done with the current mission, they must return. And I want..."  
She stopped and turned away from him, back to the globe.  
"I..." She was talking to herself. "I do not know the reasons. I can only guess at the how and why. But I must prevent the consequences."  
Mille did not bother to question her. "Yes, Big Momma."  
"Carrot's state of mind," Her eyes darkened at the thought, "may be the least of our worries."  
Mille could not begin to reply to that or to mask his surprise. He glanced quickly at the globe, and its caphonous swirl of color.


End file.
